Ring Ring
As I said, my memory isn’t the best but everyone banging on about their rings (steady on Tourette’s) has reminded me.

My mother got divorced after a long marriage and was understandably reticent about forming new relationships. Eventually she met a good bloke who I would class as one of natures gentlemen but enough of a wag not to be unbearable or stuffy. A good bloke. Things went swimmingly and after sharing numerous holidays they moved in together and started to think of moving the relationship to a more legal footing. They saw the vicar, arranged things tentatively and decided that yes, next year would be the ideal time. They exchanged engagement rings and went for a short holiday in Tenerife. He died a few days before they were due to fly back.

The funeral took place back here and his family were very supportive and understanding. Until they asked her to leave the house they had shared. She wasn’t his wife and he died intestate. She accepted a one off payment to clear any entitlement she may have had and left the house they had shared so happily.

Cue six months later and she had recovered her balance and moved on. I received an unexpected visit one Sunday morning to be greeted with “I have something for you.” She gave me a small box and left. It was the wedding ring that my future step-father would have worn. I’ve never seen it as a prized possession but I suppose it is now I’ve thought about it and how much it actually means.

Apologies for mawkish sentiment but never for length.
(porkylips looks better as the sun goes down., Thu 8 May 2008, 14:33, Reply)